It is no accident that our spiritual theme for December is Joy. Some may find such a theme cruel and uncaring given the relentless weight of this pandemic and the darkening days we find ourselves in. And yet, Joy is appropriate now even more so. As I will elaborate more upon this coming Sunday, Joy is not the same thing as happiness. Joy can be quite happy but it can also be a recognition that, despite these dark days, there are blessings to being alive. That, in fact, the joy is that we are alive: to feel both the cold of night and the warmth of light. Joy is seeing the blessings of the dark, understanding that we still choose living when so much around us is sorrow.
This poem by John O’Donohue, which I quote in its entirety, has buoyed me these days of darkness with a realization that darkness begets light, and light begets hope, and that is a reason for joy.
On the day when
the weight deadens
on your shoulders
and you stumble,
may the clay dance
to balance you.
And when your eyes
freeze behind
the grey window
and the ghost of loss
gets into you,
may a flock of colours,
indigo, red, green
and azure blue,
come to awaken in you
a meadow of delight.
When the canvas frays
in the currach of thought
and a stain of ocean
blackens beneath you,
may there come across the waters
a path of yellow moonlight
to bring you safely home.
May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
may the clarity of light be yours,
may the fluency of the ocean be yours,
may the protection of the ancestors be yours.
And so may a slow
wind work these words
of love around you,
an invisible cloak
to mind your life.
(“Blessing” in Echoes of Memory)
Yours always, Rev. John